


Storms

by daisybrien



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Modern Era, Storm Bunker, Storms, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a storm threatens the safety of their school, Eren keeps him calm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storms

**Author's Note:**

> For Eremin Week 2015

Armin does not wake up in the most pleasant of ways.

The only thing he registers when he’s forcefully pulled from his sleep is the hand on his shoulder, it’s grip stiff and strong as it shakes his arm painfully, Armin swatting at it wearily in a pathetic attempt at defense. There’s a voice speaking to him, whispered and disembodied in the dim darkness of his room, a buzz against his face. Even in his sleep-induced haze, he can still sense the urgency in it, striking a thrill of fear in his unsuspecting heart, but it is unintelligible, drowned out in the noise outside his room. In the hall, there’s a cacophony of voices melting into a soft drone, the occasional guffaw or shout permeating the sound and raising it to a sudden crescendo. He wonders why his door isn’t shut.

“Armin.” The voice is louder this time, more persistent, and he’s able to catch the familiar syllables of his name. The shaking is stronger now, moving his entire body, and he tries to smack the hand away again. “Armin, wake up!”

He feels a sudden coldness wash over his body, groaning as the intruder rips the blankets cocooning him off his body. He opens his eyes against his will, rubbing the exhaustion from his face.

“What…?” It’s the only words that he can mumble out, his tongue dry in his mouth. He props himself up on his elbows, looking up to see the face above him. “What the heck is going on?”

There’s a sudden flash of light from beyond his blackout curtains, accompanied by a roaring boom that makes him jolt from his fatigue. The white brightness casts the room’s eerie silhouette across the walls for a fraction of a second, disappearing before he can register its image. It is present long enough to get a glimpse of the person above him, the fringe of brown hair falling into green grey eyes impossible to not recognize, even in the darkness.

“Eren?” Armin says, sitting up in bed, his head snapping from side to side in the darkness. The flash of light sends him into a disoriented state, and he tries to get up from bed, bare feet planting themselves on the cold floor.

“Eren, what’s happening?” Armin asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He brushes a hand through his hair, reaching over to the bedside table to find his glasses, slipping his feet into his shoes. There’s another deafening crash from outside, strong enough to rattle the windows and shake the building under him, and he feels his heart palpitate unsteadily in his chest. Rain splatters against the roof in a disorienting melody.

“They released a tornado warning on campus,” Eren says, flicking the light on. The two of them squint at the sudden brightness, Armin throwing a hand over his eyes. He feels one of his sweaters knock him in the head as Eren throws it at him, shuffling around the room. He grabs one of Armin’s backpacks, raiding his mini fridge to shove snacks into it. “They’re telling everyone to head down to the lower floors.”

“Oh man,” Armin says, and his voice wobbles slightly. He gets up, shuffling through the bright room, looking for pants to slip on. “We really should get going. Shouldn’t we be down there by now? I think it’s already been dangerous to stay up here so long.”

“It’s not a big deal, Armin,” Eren says. ‘The campus is just being extra safe. The worst we’ll get is a blackout.”

“Alright,” Armin says, gulping in a breath. He finds himself a pair of sweats in his dresser, tripping into them. He makes his way through his drawers, pushing pens and papers and knickknacks to and fro. He starts throwing things into the backpack, following Eren’s lead; a flashlight found in the depths of his nightstand, the spare batteries hidden underneath his mattress, the extra blankets hanging off his headboard.

“Armin,” Eren says, watching in amusement as Armin stuffs his supplies into the duffel bag, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to be prepared,” Armin grunts, organizing the study notes on his desk and shoving them into his laptop. 

There’s another flash from outside, followed by the familiar boom of thunder, making Armin jump. There’s a scream from outside his room, high-pitched and intentionally humorous, followed by a cacophony of laughter that momentarily breaks the low buzz in the hall. Still, it makes him stiffen, only relaxing when Eren grips his arm with a firm hand.

“Let’s go,” Eren says, giving Armin a small smile before he pulls him out into the busy corridor.

As soon as they exit the room, Armin finds himself overwhelmed by the mass of bodies, moving like a river through the hallways. They lead him across the building, Armin following the flow down the stairs past the first floor and into the wide expanse of the basement. His feet are unsteady on the steps, tripping as the mob of people push against him. He tries to take a deep breath, trying not to mind how overbearing everything is. But Eren’s hand is strong on his arm the entire time, staying firm even when someone pushes between them and Armin loses his face in the crowd.

It’s only when the two of them emerge into the dim basement of the building that Eren lets go, the walls faded and the worn wooden floors creaking under their feet, another not-so-warm reminder of how long its been since their building has been renovated. The massive room is mostly bare, only a few plastic chairs and tables dotting the empty floor. But it was large enough to house the dozens of students in the building, many of them quickly finding their place, laying blankets across the floor or curling up in chairs to get just a few more minutes of sleep in the chaos. Some mill around quietly, muffled laughter drifting from groups huddled around in the corners; others, like Annie, nod to him silently as they look over their notes in silence, clicking away at their laptops. The plunking rhythm of a ping-pong ball echoes against the walls, Sasha and Connie sleepily swatting it with their paddles across one of the longer tables. In the distance, the storm is nothing but a low rumble, small vibrations in the walls the only thing left of the raging winds outside.

Armin slowly makes his way through, the crowd still nudging him from behind as they make their way in cautiously, all of them careful not to step on a limb of a knocked out student. He follows Eren, who makes his way to a group glued to their own expanse of the wall, immediately making himself welcome beside Mikasa. Armin wiggles his way into the group, Mikasa shuffling over to give him a space between her and Eren, but Armin can’t seem to concentrate on the words, his eyes heavy in his head and his mind buzzing, each rumble through the ground shaking his knees.

He excuses himself quietly enough that he can’t be heard, yawning as he makes his way back through the room. The floor is mostly full besides the area near Connie and Sasha’s makeshift table tennis court. Armin breezes by it, uninterested in having ping-pong balls flying at his head. He spots Annie again, more notably the empty chair beside her. Tentatively, he makes his way forward, leaning one hand on the chair.

“Hey, Annie,” he stammers. She looks up at him from the corner of her eye, brushing stray hairs from her face. “Can I sit here?”

“Sure,” she says, giving him a soft nod, the traces of a smile on her face. Armin pulls the chair out, settling himself across from a sleeping Reiner and Bertholdt, dropping his duffel bag at his feet. He pulls out his spare blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders, balling up his sweater and laying his head on it.

The table doesn’t make for a comfortable mattress, stiff and rigid under his head, but his tiredness begins to catch up with him, his eyes more than willing to drift shut. But he can hear the roar of thunder thrumming in his ears more clearly when he sets his head down, and it rattles in his brain, forcing him to shift every time it booms from above.

The buzz of the room fluctuates as students flood in or fall asleep, the snap of the ping-pong ball stopping abruptly, leaving the room no sound to drown out the storm but their own voices. He feels his anxiety starts to rise as the room grows darker and quieter, shifting in his plastic chair. His stomach twists when the dimming lights flicker, the room shaking. He lets out a soft groan, rubbing his eyes with the balls of his hands, tacky with sweat in the heat. The only thing that seems to calm him down is hearing Eren’s voice across the room, growing loud and energetic before being quieted by a chorus of shushes.

The clicking of keys goes silent beside him, Annie’s soft voice permeating the whispers floating around the room. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Armin grumbles. He stuffs his face into his sweater, further shifting in the chair.   
He hears her laptop close, her chair screeching against the floor as she gets up. His stomach twists with another crash, and he tries to drown out the sound in the folds of his makeshift pillow. He feels a heaviness in his chest, swallowing a lump in his throat as the winds grow louder outside, the thought of them viciously tearing through the dorms gnawing at the back of his mind.

Something touches his shoulder, nothing more than a gentle tap. Armin jumps from his seat, his heavy head looking up to search the room. Almost everyone had settled across the floor in blankets, the occasional phone screen illuminating a stranger’s silhouette. He turns his head up to see Eren looking down at him, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You okay, Armin?” Eren asks. He takes Annie’s place in the chair beside him, lifting the chair so he can get closer to Armin. Their shoulders brush against each other, the two of them leaning forward with their heads on the desk, arms sprawled out in front of them.

“Yeah,” Armin sighs.

“I didn’t abandon you back there, did I?” Eren whispers. “I hope you didn’t feel left out.”

“No it’s fine,” Armin says, laughing a little, “I enjoy being with them. I’m just really tired-“

His words are cut off as another crash rumbles through the room. He squeezes his eyes shut, pursing his lips.

“Is it the storm?” Eren asks, leaning in. When Armin opens his eyes, he finds Eren’s face almost against his, green eyes wide with concern.

“I’m just nervous,” Armin says, burying his head deeper into the sweater underneath it.

“You don’t have to be,” Eren says. “We’re all safe down here.”

“I guess,” Armin says. “I don’t know, it’s not like this building is exactly brand new, it’s not very rigid, I wouldn’t expect it to survive through a tornado warning.”

“There’s a very big difference between a tornado warning and an actual tornado,” Eren laughs. “If they were the same thing, this building would be a rubbish heap by now.”

“I don’t think imagining the dorms as a pile of rubble is going to help,” Armin snorts. He feels Eren’s fingers graze his own, their hands creeping towards each other; Armin lifts one finger over one of Eren’s, their two hands intertwining.

“You should try to sleep,” Eren mumbles. “Maybe it would be easier to just sleep through this whole thing.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Just try,” Eren says. Armin feels his thumb brush back and forth against the back of his hand. “Try to relax.”

Armin closes his eyes again, soothing the tired burn behind them as they fall shut. He wraps one arm under his head, the other squeezing Eren’s hand again. He feels the room shaking slightly again, booming thunder muffled through his sweater. He adjusts himself, curling farther into his chest.

“Remember the time,” Eren murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, soothing in the din, “you almost threatened to leave me in the McDonald’s parking lot?”

“Of course,” Armin says, breathing out a laugh. He doesn’t open his eyes, only lets the corners of his mouth curl into a small smile.

“You were so upset that I suggested we have sex in your car,” Eren wheezes. “You just locked the doors and refused to let me in. You were always furious every time someone thought of messing it up.”

“I was so obsessed with it,” Armin says quietly, “I didn’t even realize how big of a piece of junk it was.”

“I was so worried when I heard your tire popped on the highway,” Eren says. Armin’s smile fades slightly, the memory of slamming into the road barrier something he doesn’t like to remember. “I’m surprised you made it out of that alive.”

“Well you sure didn’t show it,” Armin says. “Unless your version of showing concern was reminding me how my car sucked while I was in the hospital, and then taking a baseball bat to it.”

“It was totaled anyway,” Eren exclaims. “You had fun wrecking it.”

“Seeing my car destroyed hurt my soul,” Armin says. “I loved that car.”

“That car wasn’t worth your love,” Eren says. “You were too good for it.”

“Oh really?” 

“Definitely,” Eren says. “Too bad you couldn’t get a better hunk of scrap metal.”

“Hey,” Armin warns. “It might have been a piece of junk, but it was my piece of junk.”

“If you say so.”

“Keep dissing the Mathmobile and see how long it takes me to kick you out of your chair.” 

The two of them break into laughter, wheezing and coughing in an attempt to stifle it, a few students huddled around their table glaring at them. Armin’s chest starts to ache, tears beading in his eyes. 

“What about the time,” Eren says, “I actually convinced you to have sex in the car.”

“Oh god,” Armin says, shoving his face into his sweater. “That was horrible.”

“You were enjoying it.”

“Not when your neighbors caught us,” Armin says. “It’s not exactly a turn on to have your naked ass revealed to the entire Christmas party of the house next door.”

“We were covered.“

“That blanket does not count,” Armin says. “Especially in the middle of winter when your own fucking science teacher is laughing at you.”

“How was I supposed to know the neighbors were friends with her?” Eren asks. 

“Hell” Eren muses, “I forgot Ms. Zackarius was even there when that happened. I wonder what happened to her.”

“Yeah,” Armin muses, his mouth widening in a yawn. “Maybe she just decided to stay home after having her baby.”

“Who knows,” Eren sighs, “maybe she just came back after we graduated.”

“We should visit the teachers sometimes,” Armin yawns. “Say hi to the librarian.”

Eren snorts, laughter choking out of him. “I don’t think she’ll be very happy to see us.”

“Us?” Armin says. “She loved me.”

“Not when we tipped that shelf over.”

“That was your fault.”

“You pushed me in that cart,” Eren says, leaning his head against Armin’s. His hair tickles at Armin’s nose, his breath against the skin of his face. “You’re still an accomplice.”

“Hm,” Armin hums. He feels his body start to grow weak, muscles relaxing. The rumble of the storm grows distant in his mind, a comforting rhythm. Eren’s voice slows beside him, the words warping into one soft hum, his low, deep tone starting to lull him to sleep. Even as his senses start to blur, Armin feels Eren’s hands shifting in his own, fingers running through his hair.

“Keep talking,” Armin murmurs quietly, almost unintelligible against his balled up sweater. He hears Eren give a soft laugh, his voice softer than before, recounting a story about someone’s locker and cotton balls as he feels himself drift into sleep. The world disappears around him, the storm out of his mind, Eren’s voice and body the only thing he feels or cares about; it’s warm and strong against him, and he feels safe enough to finally let himself fall into unconsciousness.

The last thing he feels before slipping into his welcome sleep are lips against his temple, his body sinking into Eren’s. He ends up sleeping for the rest of the night.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of the stories are made up from headcanons of another fic idea of mine, one that I'll hopefully start soon. The McDonald's parking lot story is from Car Seats


End file.
